


ember

by SapphyreLily



Series: skein of light [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, POV Second Person, guild wars 2 au, heads up both of them are sylvari bc i can, it goes from angst to non angst i promise, ranger!semi, thief!shirabu
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-02
Updated: 2018-01-02
Packaged: 2019-02-27 08:38:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13244568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphyreLily/pseuds/SapphyreLily
Summary: How far do you have to watch someone wander in their own pain before you can catch up to them, before you can make them listen?





	ember

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by [Benjamin Francis Leftwich's Kicking Roses](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3YN-Qpc8I0o)

You kneel, touching the ground, eyes scanning the foliage. Picking up the lightest scattering of pollen, where others wouldn’t notice anything.

“Korra, come.”

Your fern hound steps up beside you, touching her nose to the tracks, sniffing for clues. She looks up, meets your eyes, and lopes off in the direction of Rata Sum. You get to your feet, brush your hands off, and follow.

It’s been several months since you started tracking this person, and you are no closer to finding him as when you set off. You miss his meetings with the Nightmare Court by a day, maybe two. The tracks are never fresh enough for you to decide who to go after, but you know that you’ll always choose to chase after _him_.

No matter which of the Court meets with and tries to subvert him, he will resist, as he always does.

But still you wonder: why does he allow them to keep speaking with him? Why does he tempt their lies?

Why does he leave a trail of desolation in his wake after each meeting?

You thought at first, that every and anything invited his wrath. But as the weeks passed, so did the destruction narrow down, until it was mostly unwanted, poisonous things that he left behind.

A devourer carcass in Ascalon. Several centaurs throughout Kryta. Many icebrood, during the brief stint in the Shiverpeak mountains. Drakes and krait and giant spiders, Risen and many others during his time in the Maguuma Forest. From just one creature to scores left behind, you can only wonder if he was trying to send a message to someone.

For you know him, and you know he can avoid all these creatures if he wanted to. It feels as if he was purposely seeking them out, looking for something to vent his anger on.

He never had been good at controlling himself.

Korra barks from up ahead, sticking her nose into a patch of bush. You jog up to her, part the leaves with the end of your bow.

A scrap of black cloth hangs on the edge of a twig, and your lips twitch up.

He knows you’re tracking him, but he isn’t telling you to stay away. Maybe he knows, that you didn’t come of your own accord, that you were sent by someone else. Someone bigger, with greater authority. With greater worry.

_“Can I count on you to bring him home, my child?”_

_“Yes, Mother. Of course.”_

…maybe at first, it was just a mission to bring him home, because it is terrible every time the Nightmare Court manages to corrupt a Dreamer. But now, after months of tracking, after months of tracing his steps and speaking to the people he has spoken to – now, you begin to see what he’s thinking of. Just a little.

(You see, maybe, that he’s as lost as you are.)

(Being lost isn’t the same as rejecting the Dream. There are many kinds of lost.)

(You hope you’ll find him, before the Nightmare Court can finally convince him.)

(Because one may mistake a type of loss for another, and give in at the faintest whiff of hope.)

\-----

You think you recall a faint memory of him – it feels like a dream, because you remember it in a haze. Yet, you are sure it is not, for when you awoke your limbs were heavy and there was an almost unnoticeable scratch just under your wrist guard. Korra seemed equally out of it that day, and you could guess – a far-fetched guess – that he had come to meet you, that he had drugged you to speak to you.

_“Stop following me.”_

_You raise a hand – you try to, but it doesn’t move, it is too heavy. You want to sleep, you are so tired…_

_Slim hands grip your face, the copper glow of his luminescence lighting the hazel eyes gazing into yours, making them glow eerily. “Eita, please. Go home.”_

_“Pale Tree… Sent me… Take you… Home.”_

_He shakes his head, releasing you, backing away. Draws a black mask over the lower half of his face, reaching for a vial at his hip. “I can’t. Not yet. The Court thinks they have me, but I want to infiltrate deeper first, root them out, kill one of their superiors.”_

_“Don’t… Dangerous…”_

_You think he might have smiled, but his eyes are sad. “I’m one of the best thieves next to Caithe, but she’s always busy. Faolain knows her. No one else will do it.”_

_“Please…”_

_“Go home, Eita. I think the Pale Mother knows what I’m doing.”_

_“Ken– Kenjirou…”_

_The other shakes his head, bending to trickle some of the liquid in the vial past your lips. “I won’t wait. It has to be done.”_

_And then he is gone._

You still can’t remember if it is a dream or a memory. But it feels like it happened not too long ago, and you wonder – if it _is_ a memory, how much longer would you have to wait before he stops evading you, or he gets caught?

You don’t like entertaining that second thought.

\-----

You are half in a daze as you move to your next location, the darkness hanging over Mount Maelstrom getting to you. There’s loud barking ahead, and you force yourself to snap out of it, hurrying towards where Korra stands, hackles raised.

A dagger smeared with drying sap lies abandoned on a patch of grass. There is no evidence of a fight, no scorched or flattened grass, nothing to show what has happened. You reach towards it, but hesitate, muttering a short spell over it instead. A slight yellow glow rises from the dagger, leading away from it, disappearing into the forest.

“Korra, track.”

The fern hound leaps ahead of you, following the fading trail, and you scoop up the dagger, hurrying after her.

You hope you aren’t too late.

\-----

Up ahead, leading into the forest. You hear the rustle as people push past the foliage, and hurry on. You don’t know if the faint traces of pollen you see are from yourself, or from the sylvari who have just gone ahead.

You don’t have to wait long for an answer – shadowy figures jump out of the bush, weapons drawn. You answer them with arrows of your own, then jump in with the dagger you scooped up from the field. It nicks one of them on the arm, and their free arm swings their weapon at you – a move you block with a sword in your other hand. You push them back, slash at them; your movements are sloppy – you’re not made for close-quarters combat.

But still you press on, trade blow for blow until you see an opening, thrust the dagger towards them. The gash is hardly deep, but still they fall, convulsing. You barely stop to watch, turning to the other attacker that Korra is holding off, slicing towards them with the dagger.

A few more strokes with sword and dagger, and they too, are on the ground. You sheathe your weapons, and forge ahead, your fern hound at your heels.

There are others who appear, and stand in your way, but this time you are ready, and barrage them with exploding arrows, running past. You do not have time to get stuck in hand-to-hand combat when your friend is in danger.

Korra leads now, her running gait longer than yours will ever be, and you almost fall on top of them – your friend, fighting a Nightmare courtier on the small path.

You back up, out of their path, and herd your fern hound back as well, but this means you can only pick up bits of their conversation as they circle each other. Kenjirou seems to be winning, but the courtier looks smug, his expression triumphant. “The Grand Duchess would be pleased to have you, dead or alive. Traitors cannot be allowed to live.”

“I was never one of you,” Kenjirou hisses, his dagger darting in, slicing a neat line across the other’s arm. “I will never be one of you.”

“Really? Don’t lie to yourself, sapling.” The courtier’s movements are slower than before, and you draw your bow, ready to fire if he gets too close. “The darkness in your heart is deep. Even the Pale Tree is able to see that.”

“No. My darkness is mine, but I will not follow Nightmare. I believe in Ventari’s teachings.”

“Your darkness will overcome. Don’t lie to yourself any longer.”

You’ve heard enough. You draw your arm back, let an arrow fly, embedding itself in the courtier’s throat. Kenjirou jumps in, plunging his dagger into the courtier’s chest cavity, drawing it back as he jumps away. He doesn’t wait for the dead sylvari to fall, but turns around, throwing the dagger at you.

You duck instinctively, hear the blade embed itself in someone behind you. You rise out of your crouch, swinging your bow around, knocking your would-be assailant off balance, draw the other dagger from your waist and stab them in the neck. Korra knocks them to the ground and jumps into the bushes, barking. Then a light touch passes you by, grabbing both daggers from the body, pushing you aside to slash at more enemies.

The enemies that you didn’t finish off in your mad dash to get to him.

You stand where you are, shooting arrows while he dashes from attacker to attacker, slashing them here and there, slicing into their weak points. Further in the bush, there are snarls and barks as your pet brings down other, unseen attackers.  Working together, you take down what seems like an entire sector of the Nightmare Court, and while your quiver grows light, Kenjirou never seems to tire.

If his daggers grow slow and dull with the ever growing layers of drying sap on them, he doesn’t mention it, and it’s not until you are back-to-back, slowly scanning the area, certain that there are no more attackers, that he drops to the ground.

You put your bow away and bend down to help him, but he grabs you first and hauls himself up.

“Why did you follow me?” It’s a haunted whisper, full of tiredness, exhaustion. You shake your head, sighing.

“Because I thought you might be in danger.”

“I don’t need your help.” He stalks away, and you follow, keeping your distance.

“What was that back there, then?” It’s a soft demand, but a demand nevertheless. You don’t understand how he could keep putting his life on the line like this.

“That was you sticking your nose somewhere it doesn’t belong.” He spins around suddenly, jabbing you in the chest. “I’m serious. Leave me be. This sector of the Court is destroyed, but hope that Faolain never gets word of this. I still have work to do.”

“Why? Why must you do it?” You don’t understand. “Is it a Wyld Hunt?”

He stills. His voice is quiet. “No. It is something I wish to do, for our fellow sylvari.”

“There are better ways. You are strong, but hearts are easily corrupted by Nightmare–”

“And that is why I must stop them!” He grabs your shoulders, shaking you. “Someone has to. Caithe can’t do it, for her heart still lies with Faolain, no matter how many times she runs.”

“There must be a reason why the Pale Mother hasn’t done anything about them. Why don’t we convene with her–”

Kenjirou shakes his head, hair flying wildly. “No. She still sees them as her children, but children who have gone astray. She will not take away their autonomy, even though they have chosen to live apart from her.”

“Then why must you hunt them? Leave them be!”

“Because they will hunt us first!” His eyes are wild, desperate. “Can you imagine, if one day it has to be me, who hunts you down? Who has to kill you, because you are one of the Court? You’ve seen Caithe – she can’t kill Faolain. I don’t want to be the one who kills you!”

“I will _never_ be one of them. _Never_.” It’s your turn to be angry – furious. How can he think like that? “My allegiance is to the Pale Tree and to protecting the people as I must. I will take my life first if I ever come close to becoming like them.”

Kenjirou shakes his head. “You’ll never know, that’s the thing. You begin to think they are right, that their ideology is correct, and that’s when it all falls apart. You’ll never know if you are turning to Nightmare, until you think the Pale Tree and all that the Dream stands for is wrong.”

“How do you know this?” It seems a bit suspicious, to you.

“You heard the courtier. I have darkness in me. I understand what they think, but that does not mean I want to follow them.”

You do not understand, but you have other issues to press. “And is what you are doing not wrong as well?” You point out at the wilderness behind you, finger shaking. “I’ve tracked you since you left the Grove. You’ve killed so many. Sure, they are the things that threaten people, that threaten lives and livelihoods, but are you not taking a bit too much pleasure in tearing those creatures apart? I know your handiwork. As of late, the death blows seem a bit too crude, even for you.”

He folds his arms. “It’s none of your business.”

“Except that it is! We promised to watch each other’s backs, and then you went and ran off by yourself. How can I watch and guard you, when you are nowhere to be found?”

“Maybe I want out of that promise.”

“Maybe you’re just being stubborn!” Your voice is loud, so much louder than it ever has been, and while he does not look cowed, his eyes widen a little. “Are we not connected to each other? To all of the life around us? Even if you no longer want to be my brother in arms, you will still be someone I care about, and I refuse to leave you behind because you are as daft as you are!”

“Excuse you!”

“No, excuse _you_.” You want to hit him over the head with your bow, but you have just enough sense left to know that such an action would not be well received. “What are those parables that we are always told? Especially the one about the ember?”

“We’re _plant people_. Why would we have stories about embers and fire?”

“Okay, maybe a charr told this one to me. But it doesn’t matter!” You point a finger accusingly at him. “If you take an ember out from the main fire, it loses its warmth and dies. But once you add it back to the flame, it glows and gains its warmth again.

“What I’m _saying_ , stump-head, is that we are always stronger together. You can’t fight the Nightmare Court on your own, because they’ll always throw you back – because they outnumber you, especially if you are alone. Thousands have tried the same before you, but if there’s one thing we should have learnt from all those encounters, it’s that we can’t make any progress if we don’t stand together. Is that simple enough? Is that enough for you to understand that you have been away from the fire for too long, and it is time to return to your roots?”

He is silent a long while, and in the distance, you think you hear an animal calling. Korra shifts uneasily by your side, and though you want to reach out to her for reassurance, you restrain yourself.

Finally, he stirs. “Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Fine, I’ll come back to the Grove with you,” he snaps. “It’s about time I spoke to the Pale Tree anyway.”

You hope your slump isn’t too obvious. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go. All that yelling probably helped the Risen pinpoint our location.”

“Burn me. Come on.” You grab Kenjirou’s arm and start running back where you came from. “Were we that loud?”

The other snorts. “I think they could hear you on the other side of Mount Maestrom.”

“No, they couldn’t.”

“Yes, they could. Anyway, I think you need to return to the Grove more than I do.”

“What?”

“You swear like a charr. All those flame and plant metaphors together – it’s so obvious.” He snorts, running ahead. “How long did you spend tracking me through Ascalon? I wasn’t even in there for that long.”

“So maybe I found a few warbands along the way and marched with them for a bit.”

“Mmhmm? Steal anything good for me?”

“None were Iron Legion, so no.”

“None were Ash?”

“All were Blood, and they cradle their weapons to sleep.”

“You’re joking.”

“I swear by the Tree, it’s true.” You hold up your hands. “Maybe we’ll take a hike through Ascalon after we speak to the Pale Mother.”

“Deal. I want to see these warbands you befriended.”

“If they lop your head off, I’m not at fault.”

“I’ll tell them I’m your mate, they’ll respect that for a bit.”

“If they believe that, I’m actually a cabbage head.”

“You mean you’re not?”

“…I will shoot you and let Korra tear you apart.”

“You need me to make the trip back alive.” Kenjirou grins and skips out of reach. “I know all the shortcuts back to Lion’s Arch.”

“I’ll kill you after we convene with the Pale Mother.”

“The Wardens will catch you.”

“I will–”

Kenjirou snorts and runs back by your side, knocking you gently with his shoulder, cutting you off. His demeanour is suddenly a lot more serious, and your mood plateaus, waiting for what he has to say.

“Thank you,” he whispers, “For coming to get me.”

You nudge him back and grab his wrist, slowing both of you down. Korra stops and lopes back when she notices you are not following, and sits to wait.

“I will always come for you,” you promise. “Whether or not the Pale Mother ordered me to come, I would have come anyway.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“No, I’m not.” You offer a crooked grin. “We’ve always been brothers in arms, but I hope to expand that meaning a little more, at some point.”

“…what are you saying?” His eyes are hooded, but you can see him biting his lip.

You take a deep breath, months of worrying finally culminating to this point. “Would you like to be introduced to the charr warbands as my mate? For real.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his eyes are wide, mouth slightly open. “I was joking.”

“I am not.”

He shakes his head a little, but you see the smile he tries to hide, see the sudden flash as his copper luminescence darkens a tinge. He looks up, lips trying to remain flat and still. “If we get to Lion’s Arch alive, I’ll let you introduce me to the Pale Tree as your mate.”

You can’t stop your grin; your heart is suddenly buoyant, and you feel like you could take on an army of Risen. Instead, you tug him closer and lean forward to kiss his forehead. 

“Deal.”


End file.
